Becoming An Agent
by Em0Wolf
Summary: Alex Rider is fed up, and wants more for the missions he completes. His demands are met, William Maddox becomes kind of friendly, and some anonymous guys get threatened with a gun. It's all happening here. Oh, and did I mention Lasagne? ONE SHOT


**_Disclaimer : I own nothing you recognize from the Alex Rider series_**

Alex sighed. The traffic roared past him, zooming down the busy London road hastily to get home to anxious family. Alex was sixteen years old, and currently living in his house with his new 'guardian' that MI6 had assigned him. His 'guardian' was Ben Daniels, MI6 agent and former SAS. For nearly two years now, Alex had been blackmailed less and less to go on missions. He knew they'd simply find something else he mildly cared about like, let's say, Brooklands. Then they'd go in with a bulldozer and threaten do destroy it and the pupils and staff in the building. They hadn't had to resort to something as extreme as that yet because Alex had slowly cooperated more until there was a mild, yet extremely practiced, death glare heading in Blunts direction.

He'd been on eleven missions since Jack died in Cairo and he knew be was due his twelfth soon. It was the seventh of December, and the (roughly) month gap between each month long mission was over. Any day now he'd get a call. The call. The one he dreaded, yet got slightly excited about. After all, school, especially year eleven, was boring. Alex already knew most of it because of the roles he'd played in missions.

As he thought about the absurdity of the concept of school, he arrived at his home. Home sweet home. Knocking loudly on the door and wincing slightly at the noise it made _outside_ the house, he was finally let in by an exhausted Ben."I'm back!" Ben said, grinning like a maniac. "The mission actually finished on time! Unlike Columbia of course.." Ben trailed off on the last part, but Alex still caught it.

"Yeah, Columbia was hell... after four weeks, you would of thought they'd send a search party. But _no._ They couldn't risk blowing our cover..." Alex grumbled in reply. Alex gestured to the open door Ben was blocking."Do you mind?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry." Ben blushed slightly red as Alex pushed past and went upstairs to dump his bag and do his homework. He quickly got changed into his normal black shirt and cheap leather jacket, with frayed jeans to match.

As he sat down, he wondered when the call would come. It was a Friday so the call could come any time over the weekend or tonight. It never came during school. That was because after an English lesson was rudely interrupted with a request for a meeting, there was a shouting match. The winning team, of course, was Alex. The losers were Blunt and Jones, who more like tinted their voices with anger than full on shouted. Anyway, that was the end of calling during school hours. _Maybe it will come on Saturday..._

His line of thought was rudely interrupted by the teeth-grating sound of his phone ringing. It was an IPhone 7, second hand from someone who got it, then decided they'd prefer the IPhone 7+, but had lost the receipt. So they sold it. A hidden callers ID confirmed his thoughts. The call. He sighed once more, then answered it."Hello?" He had to make sure it was the bank before he could rattle of state secrets to the other end of the phone.

 _"Yes, is this Alex Rider?"_

"Who's calling?"

 _"Its the bank, we'd like to arrange a meeting about a problem in your account. The meeting is scheduled for five o'clock, we will send a car, is that ok?"_

"Its fine, I will take the tube. And you never confirmed the speaker, its Rider. Don't forget next time."

 _"Thank you for using the Royal and General_ "

For the third time in less than an hour, Alex sighed. He stood up, pocketing his phone and wallet, making sure he had entry of cash. Walking downstairs, he shouted for Ben. "Ben! The bank called! Five o'clock, I'm taking the tube. You ok having tea on your own?"

"Alex! I'm not a child! Of course I don't mind dinner on my own, but I will save you some anyway. It's lasagna!" Alex descended the final step and checked the clock. Quarter to five.

"I'm going Ben. I've got my phone, don't worry." Ben shut his mouth, glaring at Alex, who smirked. He shoved his converse on, and stepped out the door, slamming it behind him. He let his thoughts overtake him, as he walked confidently towards the tube station. It wasn't exactly fair on him, with a summer job and this, yet he only gets paid for one. He only gets paid for his job as a newspaper boy, not saving the world. And on his missions, no matter how risky, he gets at the most, a stun dart or hidden grenade. Occasionally he will manage to get a gun as he escapes but it is usually lost shortly after when the gun, normally a guards that had already been used to shoot at him, runs out of ammo.

Another problem, probably the biggest, was that when he arrived at a town and tried to call for back-up, the local police arrested him for suspected murder or something, because of the blood on his clothes. He never had any proof of his job, or a way to prove his innocence.

Arriving at the tube station, he worked his way through the maze of ticket booths and onto the platform. Almost at once, his train arrived. There were no seats, so he held onto the handles above and swung with the train. Eight minutes later, he was on the platform on the other side of London, making his way to street level. He finally emerged from the streets and onto Liverpool Street.

Spotting the bank, and his watch, Alex jogged lightly to the front door, dodging the dark crimson stain that marked his near grave. Alex shivered; he had nearly died on this spot two years ago. The automatic doors opened and Alex stepped inside, once again spotting his watch. The receptionist barely looked up as he approached and only did when he said "I'm here to see Blunt, tell him its 140200118. And open the lift." He gestured to the staff lift, used by agents too. She frantically typed, then nodded, pressing a button which opened the reinforced steel doors to the lift.

Stepping inside, he knew he was being scanned for weapons or signals transmitting from cameras, microphones or earpieces. Finding none, the lift dinged open on floor fourteen, granting him access to the heads of MI6's floor. Stepping into office number ten, Alex saw Blunt, accompanied as always by Jones. "Alex, take a seat please." As Mrs. Jones spoke the peppermint that always surrounded her pulsed and grew for a second.

This time Blunt spoke. "Alex, have you heard anything about the refugee crisis in Syria?"

"Have I heard about it? Of course! It's all over the news constantly! Refugee this, refugee that..."

"Ok, well, we have reason to believe that several different mafias around the world are using the terrible situations in many countries to their advantage. They are either sneaking packages onto unsuspecting immigrants, or paying them small amounts of money to drop them in specific countries. These packages contain anything from drugs like cocaine and marijuana to knives and other such weapons. In one package, a specialized sniper rifle was found." Blunt, for once, sounded serious. He sat with a vanilla folder bearing MI6's seal and the red stamp saying 'classified'. This was the mission briefing.

"What has this got to do with me?" Alex asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

Mrs. Jones' voice penetrated the deafening silence that followed his question."The people they are hiring to deliver packages are all young children, between the ages of nine until seventeen." Alex knew where it was going and started thinking about his situation. "We would like you, as a sixteen year old, to go undercover as a refugee starting in Syria. You will travel through Europe, mimicking the movement's of a refugee."

"No." The defiance was clear in Alex's voice. He was mildly surprised at how confident he sounded, especially faced with the force of the heads of MI6."Not this time. I will do your mission, but on several conditions. One, I want to be an Agent. Being an Agent means I get ID, pay, and a gun. I need authentic ID for when I'm trying to get a rescue team together, and my summer job isn't paying nearly as much as I need. Ben's working really hard too, and he's not even my official guardian! So I need the same amount of pay as any _legal_ agent. And a gun. How do you expect me to take down some terrorists without a gun? Or a knife? Just a stun dart won't work. I need a gun."

"Two, I don't need a guardian. Ben can move, and live a relatively normal life without me. Three, I still go to Brooklands and can go to a collage or university of my choice. So, what do you say? Deal?" Throughout the duration of his lengthy speech, Alex had been pacing up and down, waving his hands maniacally in the air. He suddenly sat down, breathing out a sigh of relief. The speech was over. He looked at Blunt, waiting patiently for an answer.

Blunt turned to Jones, who shook her head and gestured towards Alex. She wasn't going to help Blunt. Not this time. He took a deep breath, "Well, I uh, that's quite a demand to make, and very suddenly. I agree, your missions would be aided greatly by the gun and ID, and I see where your coming from with the pay. So, you can be an official agent. It's getting very complicated with the prime minister currently, employing a minor unofficially. However, I ask that Ben stay with you, as protection. At least until your seventeen and several of the snakeheads after you have disbanded." Alex nodded slowly, agreeing with the statement.

"You may also stay at Brookland, but collage or university may not be an option. We would provide adequate training and classes to bring you to the high standards we require." Again Alex nodded, feeling satisfied with the outcome. After all, aim high achieve low, right?

Several minutes later, after a more detailed mission briefing, Alex walked out, feeling proud. He stepped into the lift, pressing floor sixteen, Smithers floor. He had been told to get his identification card and badge there. _Ding!_ The lift doors opened and Alex stepped out and into a stretching corridor, lined with doors. Finding the right one from memory, he opened the door to find a room full of paperwork with a snake sitting atop the mound of paper, guarding it. Alex slammed the door shut and turned around, having realized he was on the wrong side of the corridor. He slowly opened the opposite door, this time rewarded with the puffy, red cheeks of Smithers.

"Come in, my boy! I heard you are becoming an Agent! I've printed your card, and had your badge engraved for you. Look after it now, wouldn't want it falling into the wrong hands now, would we?" Smithers handed Alex a leather wallet, open and with a badge in shiny gold, it looked like the sheriff's gold star from an old cowboy film. He gingerly took it, and the seemingly normal plastic card that came with it. The card read; _Agent Alex Rider, Military Intelligence Sector 6, special operations, clearance level:9/10_. A shiny metal chip was embedded next to it, like a credit card but larger, more detailed. "Use that to access the lift and back doors, it's also scanned occasionally to check authenticity." Smithers explained. "Now, if you head to the lift, and press the Generator Room button, it will take you straight to the basement, where you will receive a gun and drivers license, and your gun. Off you pop now, Alex!"

Waving goodbye to Smithers, Alex jumped back in the lift and followed Smithers instructions. Sure enough, the lift came to rest at the basement, full of guns and targets, mats and punch bags. Of course, one man, a very _very_ annoyed looking man, stood by a lonely printer in the corner of the room. Alex headed for him, fairly sure as to why the man was so angry. His face was steadily getting redder, and he looked like a bomb ready to explode.

"Hello, I'm here to-" A large, obnoxious shout came hurtling towards Alex's face.

"Yes, I know what your here for! A teenager, come to my basement, asking for a gun and drivers license! What are the heads thinking?" The dedicated man in front of Alex had just exploded with anger.

"Yes, I know it seems absurd, but could I please have my licenses? I need to get home." This was true, Alex was starving and lasagna sounded nice.

Grumbling under his breath, the man replied. "Fine, you can have your stupid licenses. And your gun. Stupid MI6. Letting a boy have a gun..." still mumbling under his breath."Here, your gun license and driving license. Come over here and we'll get you a gun." The bulky man strolled over to a wooden wall in the centre of the room, near the target range."We'll test you to find the perfect gun. Let's start with a Sig Sauer p226, small and easily concealed but packs a punch"

Picking up the gun in question, Alex fell in love with it. Slim and light, he could easily conceal it yet it's thick aluminum barrel provide more force than he thought possible. His aim was perfect, the gun feeling like an extension of his hand. "This one feels just right. I think I will take it."

"Ok, a nice easy hand gun. Now, for specific team missions or standard army ones, I have been told you will be either the Intelligence Officer in the field, or most likely, a Sniper. For your Sniper missions you will require a Sniper Rifle. We don't have too many, but specific models can be ordered if you prefer or custom made."

"I do have a favorite, I trained with it for a while, the Blaser 93 Tactical. Do you have any? Don't worry about the custom parts, I will get them myself."

"You've certainly got a taste, and it just so happens we have one here. They were ordered for a unit retrieval operation brewer's after an Agent was captured, but the Agent escaped in time. Supposed to be used three months ago in Columbia. Anyway, just here."

He lifted the rifle from the rack, handing it to Alex gently. Alex ran his hands over the smooth metal, examining every nook and cranny for any damage. Finding none, he nodded and indicated towards the table of Rifle cases. The man, whose name was, according to the name tag, William Maddox, found the right case and handed it to Alex muttering about rifles and irresponsible teens not knowing anything.

Alex was also given a holster for his hand gun and was asked if he wanted any more guns for safety. Alex nodded and was given a smaller pistol, another Sig Sauer p226 and a slightly larger Sig Sauer p228. "Is that it? Oh, I nearly forgot. I presume you don't have a car, as you got your license today. All new agents get a car with the license, choose one. I have been told you can choose anything, and experience it to be delivered directly to your house within five days."

"There is a car, it's a classic espionage one though, the Aston Martin DB10. James Bond car from the new film Spectre. I'm guessing the only colour available is black, right?"

"Yep, typical spies. So, it's the Aston Martin DB10 in black then?"

"Yes, it is. Is that everything or is there more?"

"Well, the last thing is knives. Not much choice, combat ones, throwing ones or small, light and sharp ones. What will it be?" William seemed very absorbed in his work, not noticing how casually he was talking about knives to a child.

"How about a set of throwing knives in a case, two combat ones and three of the small light ones?" This man actually seemed kinda nice once you got him talking about guns and knives.

"Of course, do you want holsters for the rest too?"

"Yes please." Now the whole business was getting kind of boring. Alex was handed the knives which he quickly deposited in his growing backpack along with four guns, a rifle and now another five knives and a set of throwing one's. His code for when the car arrived went in after, and the whole thing was zipped up and hidden underneath a jumper.

"Well, that's it. Don't miss the car or it will come here to be dropped off, and don't lose anything!" Alex set of to the lift, definitely needing lasagna now.

 ** _Two years later, eighteen year old Alex..._**

Alex sighed. It was a long, deep sigh. It was his last day at Brookland before he finished school and started properly at MI6. The last day he had to hide his double life from his friends, after this he could forget about denying the rumors and live freely. It was last period English, and with ten minutes to go before the end of the day, the year and the school, Alex was excited.

The clock ticked on, the teacher continued droning on about how important English is as a life skill and Tom continued throwing scrunched up notes at his girlfriend, Freya. Then, as the clock declared it five minutes to go, footsteps were heard outside the door and it was burst open, flooding with men in ski masks with guns.

"Silence! I'm looking for someone, someone in particular..." Alex stiffened hoping it wasn't him. I mean, he'd worn his Kevlar vest and guns and knives, and brought his reinforced Aston Martin, it he still hoped his secret wouldn't out, not now, not ever.

"I'm looking for a boy" Alex drew in a breath "Called Alex Rider. I believe he has something to share with us all. About a Bank. Come out Alex, or we will shoot your friend Harris." Tom was suddenly grabbed, and Alex sighed and stood up warily. He walked to the front, his hand on the gun hanging discretely from his waist. "Now Alex, I believe you've recognized where we are from haven't you?" Alex had. The Scorpion tattoos on their arms said everything.

"Alex here is not just a school boy; he is an Agent for MI6. He is illegally deployed in foreign countries."Alex took a longer than average sigh and pulled out his guns. One aimed at each of the two remaining men in the classroom while the others guarded the door from outside.

"Shut up and put your hands up. I will not hesitate to shoot. Give me your guns and blah blah blah. Please calmly surrender or I shoot, move and I shoot, make a noise and I shoot, send a signal and I shoot." The class was shocked, but Alex ignored them as he tied the two men up and left the room silently to deal with the other men. Job done, and Alex face planted. The bell rung, MI6 arrived, and Alex's new career had officially begun.

 ** _Authors note_**

 **Hello! This is a one-shot, my first actually, and I'm sorry it took ages I kept coming back to it but now it's done. Alex is living with Ben because he needed a guardian after Jack died and Ben already knew him. No slash intended, just friends. Thanks for all you ongoing support, and** ** _if you have book ideas, improvements or even hate mail or praise, review!_**

 **Thanks for reading, please review,**  
 **Teddybearcrazy**

 ** _Date published: 25th April 2017_**


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